I first heard the author, Dave Grossman, on a radio interview promoting this book. I heard him say that that in the history of combat from Alexander the Great through World War II only about 15% of soldiers in battle were trying to kill the enemy. He's not talking about the long administrative and logistical tail of the army. Only 15-20% of the people with guns or swords in their hands, facing an enemy trying to harm them, were willing to kill that enemy. I know this is hard to believe. I first heard this statistic from a pacifist and I called him a liar. Then I heard it from this author, a former US Army Colonel and military historian, who references the research of the US Army's official W.W.II historian as well as many other scholars.

Once one accepts this fact, two questions immediately present themselves: "Why?" and "What to do about it?" The first question is easy: most humans have a deep and strong taboo against looking a person in the face and destroying them. Many would literally rather die than cross that line. The second question is more complex and hugely interesting.

Clearly, if only 15% of the assets you have expensively brought to face an enemy are performing, your army has a major problem. The US Army raised this traditional firing rate from 15% up to 50% between W.W.II and the Korean conflict and again to better than 95% in Vietnam and Desert Storm. The British similarly increased their firing rate, to devastating effect in the Falklands against Argentines still performing at traditional levels. All modern militaries have since solved the problem. How?

The low firing rates have been cured by the new ways modern militaries train and lead soldiers. This is where my interest as a trainer of business leaders and salespeople is piqued. I have long noted that the biggest problem with most sales people is that they will not do the uncomfortable or unfamiliar things necessary to make more sales faster. It is not a knowledge problem, it is a performance problem. I figured that if the Army could get most ordinary men to pull the trigger, similar methods ought to get most typical salespeople to dial the telephone.

Grossman reports five factors which influence (determine?) the likelihood of a person to kill: Predisposition of Killer, Attractiveness of Target, Distance from Target, Group Absolution, and Demands of Authority

Many of these factors were well understood and widely practiced in the days of 15% firing ratios. This may be how armies got beyond relying on the 2% of the population willing to kill in combat without dramatic prompting or remorse. A huge gap in combat performance remained because, "When people become angry, or frightened, they stop thinking with their forebrain (the mind of a human being) and start thinking with their midbrain (which is indistinguishable from the mind of an animal). They are literally "scared out of their wits." The only thing that has any hope of influencing the midbrain is also the only thing that influences a dog: classical and operant conditioning." [p. xviii] The big change came when the US Army began, perhaps unintentionally, to incorporate the behaviors demonstrated by Pavlov and B. F. Skinner and made training much more realistic, repetitive, and rewarding.

"World War II-era training was conducted on a grassy firing range..., on which the soldier shot at a bull's-eye target. After he fired a series of shots the target was checked, and he was then given feedback that told him where he hit.

"Modern training ... comes as close to simulating actual combat conditions as possible. The soldier stands in a foxhole with full combat equipment, and man-shaped targets pop up briefly in front of him. These are the eliciting stimuli that prompt the target behavior of shooting. If the target is hit, it immediately drops, thus providing immediate feedback. Positive reinforcement is given when these hits are exchanged for marksmanship badges... Traditional marksmanship training has been transformed into a combat simulator." [p. 177]

And the citizen soldier has been transformed into a reliable killing machine: "When I went to boot camp and did individual combat training they said if you walk into an ambush what you want to do is just do a right face - you just turn right or left, whichever way the fire is corning from, and assault. I said, 'Man, that's crazy. I'd never do anything like that. It's stupid.' The first time we came under fire, ... in Laos, we did it automatically. Just like you look at your watch to see what time it is. We done a right face, assaulted the hill -- a fortified position with concrete bunkers emplaced, machine guns, automatic weapons -- and we took it. And we killed - I'd estimate probably thirty-five North Vietnamese soldiers in the assault, and we only lost three killed." [p. 317]

Contrast that with the report of a commander in W.W. II: "Squad leaders and platoon sergeants had to move up and down the firing line kicking men to get them to fire. We felt like we were doing good to get two or three men out of a squad to fire." [p. xiv] Sounds a lot like what I hear from sales managers. Perhaps because salespeople, like soldiers, find they must transgress strong taboos to be successful, for example, intruding on strangers, talking about money, and persisting past, "No," to name only three. The salesperson's taboos are clearly of a lesser import than the soldier's, yet the parallel is strong. Both the soldier and the salesperson suffer when they fail to transcend taboos, even though ignoring them is crucial to success and permission has been granted.

Redesigning a salesperson's training to take advantage of these well demonstrated methods of behavior modification can have a similarly spectacular effect. Another key to enhanced salesperson performance evident from Grossman's work is the value of on-the-job group dynamics. "Numerous studies have concluded that men in combat are usually motivated to fight not by ideology or hate or fear, but by group pressures and processes involving (1) regard for their comrades, (2) respect for their leaders, (3) concern for their own reputation with both, and (4) an urge to contribute to the success of the group." [p. 89] Many sales organizations, by contrast, pit salespeople against each other and minimize the role of sales managers. It is a world of lone wolves, though teamwork and leadership are demonstrated multipliers of effectiveness. How much of a multiplier? Modern armies have faced similarly equipped, by traditionally trained enemies and killed 35 to 50 of their adversaries for each soldier lost. [p. 197] Salespeople trained, organized, and lead on this model can also expect order-of-magnitude improvements.


A flawed effort with some redeeming virtues   January 31, 2006
 24 out of 31 found this review helpful

I waffled between two and three stars; I hope my review will give some sense why.

Some time ago, it occurred to me that the single, rock-bottom, absolutely necessary requirement for murderous violence is to define the victim as somehow alien, as "other"; for (relevant to the book here) soldiers in war, as "not us," a definition that necessarily precedes that of "enemy." It's not surprising, then, that I agree with one of Grossman's central theses: that people have an inherent reluctance to kill their own kind. It's a reluctance that can be overcome by socialization, psychologically separating "our kind" from a created "their kind," but it does exist.

Given that agreement, what likely would surprise is how weak I find his argument. It's a once-over-lightly treatment which often reads more like a glaze of pop psychology than a serious treatment probing an important topic. Moreover, it was often repetitious and presented points that frequently left me scratching my head.

For example, in attempting to prove the idea of an inherent reluctance to kill, Grossman refers several times to estimates of casualty rates in battles before World War II which seemed considerably lower than what should have been expected based on a measurement of the accuracy of the guns used. From this, he asserts that the soldiers were deliberately missing, shooting over the heads of their foes.

However, it later turns out that "accuracy" consisted of being able to hit a target some six feet high and 100 feet wide on a firing range - a target, I'm assuming, intended to be roughly the same size as an advancing line of enemy infantry. But of course, such a line is not solid, it has numerous, constantly shifting, gaps. And certainly, professional soldier Grossman should know that no one expects a weapon to perform as well in combat as it does on the testing range.

But my even greater criticism here, because it runs to method rather than data, is that Grossman insists that the inaccuracy seen in the field was due to aiming to miss - without ever considering the possibility that under the stress of combat, many of those soldiers *were not aiming at all* but rather just firing wildly in the general direction of the enemy.

That kind of skim-the-surface analysis pervades the book. What's more, while it's clear that Grossman tries to keep his personal (as opposed to his professional) views out of it, ultimately he doesn't succeed - and when it comes to Vietnam, which he tries to resuscitate as a noble cause, he gives up trying.

Instead, he slanders the peace movement as engaging in "a concerted, organized, psychological attack" on returning veterans, even favorably quoting a passage referring to the peace sign, Memorial Day protests, and the fad of wearing fatigues as showing "remarkable insight into the organization and scope" of the "attack."

This is neither psychology nor sociology, it is ideology. Ideology with more than a touch of paranoia. The country was deeply ambivalent about the Vietnam war and became deeply ambivalent about the soldiers sent to fight it. I remain very skeptical of the "spitting" stories (since they never seem to have occurred in the presence of any corroborating witness) but that there were incidents of returning veterans being subject to some form of abuse is unquestionable. However, turning that into "a concerted, organized, psychological attack" would be offensive were it not so pathetically ludicrous.

How far does Grossman go? He even implies that the peace movement was responsible for PTSD: He contrasts the sentiment of a WW2 vet when asked "Did it bother you?" ("Hell, yes - you can't go through that without being influenced.") with that of a Vietnam vet ("No ... you get used to it.") and says the latter is a defensive response to supposedly being called "a baby killer." Remember that this is *despite his own contention* that the firing rate was so much higher in Vietnam than in previous wars because operant conditioning techniques had turned killing into an automatic, even emotionless, response; despite his own acknowledgment of the dramatic differences in the natures of those two wars; and despite his admission that soldiers in Vietnam tended to be younger than those in earlier US wars, making them likely to be less mature and less able to sort through their feelings.

So flawed? Yes, most certainly. Why, then, as many as three stars? For two reasons:

One, it at least is an effort to come to grips with a subject that has gotten far too little attention: the psychology of acceptable killing. Oh, we have studied the psychopaths, the thrill murderers, the outcasts and castaways. But we have rarely addressed the question of killing when society says its acceptable for you to, even desired that you, kill another human being. It is, again, a surface treatment, but at least it's some kind of treatment that doesn't turn away from the issue.

And two, the book does appear to have one real value: In the hands of those struggling with their own feelings in the wake of their combat experiences, it can bring the reassurance and the hopefully welcome relief that their feelings are normal, the conflicts natural; the guilt, the exhilaration, the fear, the remorse, the rejection of remorse, have all been shared by, experienced by, others. It can help them heal. And that's not a bad thing for a book to do.


Alters opinions   March 14, 2000
 23 out of 24 found this review helpful

I am a reporter. Most people would expect me to deny Lt. Col. Grossman's findings, pertaining to violence in the media, as sensationalist and misleading since I should know where my bread is buttered.

I admit, I was skeptical, but during research for an article on violence in the schools, I came across the colonel's book, "On Killing". After reading it, I became a convert.

The comparison of the military's usage of operant and classical conditioning techniques with the psychological effects experienced by juveniles when they observe violence - or participate in it, in the case of interactive shoot-'em-up video games - was quite enlightening. Col. Grossman brought a fresh perspective to the debate and convinced me to rethink my original opinion.

Of course, his theory wouldn't hold unless he could prove that humans, by nature, are unable to kill other human beings unless trained and psychologically conditioned to do so. I believe he did prove this point.

Simplistic solutions such as instituting media criticism courses, turning off the TV or banning guns won't stop the killing because they don't get at the core psychological problems and they don't address the enabling factors that are co-conspirators in juvenile violence.

Listen to this man.


A different view of the Vietnam war.   October 12, 2004
 23 out of 25 found this review helpful

Grossman, D. (1996). On killing. NY: Back Bay Books.

To read Grossman's gripping study of killing in a military environment requires a degree of courage from the readers. In fact, those Vietnam colleagues who are not travelling well may be better off not reading this book for it peels back the psychological layers of training to kill, and then the guilt that has been generated from being part of the harvesting of the body count. Importantly, the author recognises that Vietnam was different, for a variety of reasons, to any other war that we have fought.

Grossman has impeccable credentials. He rose from the rank of private to lieutenant colonel and served in the 82nd Airborne, 7th Infantry Division and the U.S. Rangers and as a psychology professor at West Point.

After the Second World War, the British and Americans studied the phenomenon of non-firers. American studies confirmed that in battles only 15-20% of the troops shot to kill. In some situations where several riflemen were together firing at the enemy, others in the group would take on supporting roles (getting ammunition, tending the wounded etc.). There was a conspiracy of silence over the non-firers and those involved in a conspiracy to miss, even when their lives were endangered. The British confirmed that among the Argentinean troops in the Falklands, there was a similar rate of non-firers.

However, by the time of the Vietnam War, training techniques had been changed and the firing rates were around 95%. Herein lies the root of the problems faced by Vietnam veterans. As a result of the non-firing data, training methods were re-designed to remove the moral dilemma of taking human lives. Recruits were trained to shoot body shaped targets, not bullseyes and recruits were rewarded for "kills". At Puckapunyal (Recruit Training), recruits for Vietnam were instructed to aim for the chest, so if the enemy doesn't die they become a burden for their medical support teams. Bayonet training, which had probably remained unchanged for over 100 years, was designed to massively damage the enemy soldier's abdominal-thoracic region with a steel instrument possessing two specifically designed blood grooves. And, as the RDI said, "If you are unlucky enough to bayonet the enemy in the head and can't get your bayonet out, discharge a round and it should split the head open."
In, out, on guard! Kill, kill!
The NCOs' and officers' jobs in combat remain to get the troops to kill. I cannot agree with Grossman's observation that British officers do their jobs better because of the class distinction between themselves and their men, which allowed them to make more objective decisions (p. 168). The "fragging" phenomenon in Vietnam occurred because of this perceived officer indifference to the suffering of the troops.

Killing another human being is not a natural act, contrary to what the movies would have us believe. Grossman argued that only 2% of the troops are natural killers (psychopaths/sociopaths), the others need a variety of support strategies to overcome the feeling of guilt that eventually emerge. Perhaps a strongpoint of this book is the excellent diagrams, which capture the essence of key points in this treatise. The diagram showing the predisposition to kill (p.188) is a good example of Grossman's clarity of thought. He shows that the demands of authority, training and conditioning, experience, target attractiveness and group support all come into play before the trigger is pulled.

So, what made Vietnam different to previous and subsequent wars? Firstly, the training was different and the re-socialisation of recruits, particularly those conscripted into the military, was designed to make certain that the troops would kill. The troop rotations generally had new members of units arriving and leaving as individuals, thus denying them the support and absolutions for what they had taken part in. Thirdly, there was no safe rear area and troops had to be battle ready, always. The Swank and Marchand research of 1946 showed that after 25 days in combat troops suffered combat exhaustion, with a reduction in their effectiveness and ending after 50 days in a vegetative phase. Fourthly, the lack of support from the home communities turned many Vietnam veterans into pariahs and it took over a decade to begin to remedy this dreadful, politically driven alienation. As a result, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) manifested itself in many returning troops, who often left Vietnam and were expected to be civilians again within 12 hours. It was interesting that the British sent troops home from the Falklands by boat to overcome this specific problem of the lack of group absolution.

For me, this book was an interesting read, but importantly it made me understand myself and my veteran colleagues a little better.

[...]

Neil MacNeill, 31 Charlie.